Eyes Open
by Petunia846
Summary: Just a little tag for Eyes Open...something I wish we'd seen, so I wrote it for myself. Fiona deals with her loss and Sam and Michael rally around her.


"I'm telling you, Mike, staying with your mom's going to be a good thing. Sure she's kind of nosey…and she's not the best cook…and there's the smoking, I guess, but…really, she's a fun lady, and-"

"A fun lady? Did you just call my mom a fun lady?" Michael looked at Sam as he drove.

"I know you can't see it because she's your mother and all, but it's true, Mikey. You're pretty lucky."

"If you say so…"

Sam pulled the car up in front of the entrance to the loft. The club was closed so it was a quiet night.

"Thanks, Sam. I'll be ready by the time you get back. I just need to get a few things together."

"No problem, Brother. See ya then."

Michael took a nice deep breath of the night air as Sam drove off. It was nice to be home again after hospitals and running around after crazy people, but even before opening the gate Michael sensed something was off.

The car he found in his driveway was not the kind of trouble he'd expected. He took the stairs slowly and listened to the noises coming from inside.

He pushed open the door and looked around. "Fi? What are you…"

She spun around to stare at him. The punching bag continued to rock back and forth behind her. It was clear she'd been working out, but he wondered why she'd chosen to do it in the same sundress she'd been wearing earlier.

"Michael. I…I let myself in. I didn't think you'd be by…" She brushed her hand across her forehead to wipe away sweat but left a streak of blood instead.

"Jesus, Fi!" Michael crossed the room swiftly.

"What?" she puffed, still out of breath.

He pulled at her hands. "You're covered in blood."

She looked down at her own hands as he held them out, feeling a bit detached from everything. "Oh. Damn it. Forgot to tape." She smiled tiredly at him as she rambled. "It was just a spur of the moment decision and you know how it is, Michael, when you-"

"Fi." That particular tone of voice always left her speechless. He tugged at his sleeve and used it to wipe the blood off her face. "I'm sorry about your new place…all your stuff."

She looked away, her false bravado crumbling. Suddenly her knuckles were fascinating. She pulled away and walked over to wash her hands at the kitchen sink.

"Oh well, you know…it's only possessions, right? All that matters is that everyone's safe."

He watched her back. "Had you already moved everything in?"

"Most everything, yes." She worked to keep her voice light. "But you know me, Michael. I've always got a little extra stashed here and there. I'll be all right."

Michael sighed at her denial but walked back to the bathroom to collect the first aid kit.

She was standing at the kitchen counter when he came back. Fingers stretched out against the wood, watching the blood start pooling in the gashes again.

"Thanks," she whispered as he unpacked the supplies.

"Where are you going to stay?"

"Well I have a little safe house for emergencies up in Hialeah, so-"

"You can't stay in Hialeah." He rubbed some ointment across the swelling joints.

She scoffed. "It's a perfectly safe neighborhood, Michael. And don't you think, of all people, I ought to be able to take care of myself?"

He held one hand and started wrapping it in narrow gauze. "You should stay here."

"Here? I know you've grown to like it Michael, but really? You can't be serious."

"I am serious, Fi. You should stay here while I'm at my mom's. She won't let me stay here, but that doesn't mean you can't."

She tugged her hand out of his. "Not too much gauze, I'll be useless if you keep that up."

He rolled his eyes but moved on to the other hand. "Just stay here, Fi. Keep an eye on things for me and take your time finding a new place. Sam and I will pull together some money to help cover the cost of new furniture and clothes," he tried to lighten the mood, "and of course shoes."

She missed his playful comment. "Why should you and Sam have to pay? You're not the ones who…" her voice trailed off.

"Sam might be innocent in all of this but I doubt I am. I'm sure a good half second of Jesse's thought process there was devoted to how much blowing your house up would help him get back at me for burning him."

"And me. He's still pretty pissed at me too, you know. Are you sure we can still trust him?"

Michael started putting the supplies back in the bag. "I don't think we have much choice. Not now."

He leaned back against the counter and Fiona stepped into his arms, resting her head against the un-bandaged side of his chest.

"We're a mess," she sighed.

"Yeah you are," Sam agreed as he pushed open the door. "The two of you are giving me ulcers. I swear."

Michael smiled. "Hey, Sam. Sorry I'm not ready."

"Eh, no problem." He walked around the two of them to the fridge. "Who else wants a beer?"

"Oh, yes please," Fiona grabbed one from him and headed out onto the balcony.

"Mike?"

Michael shook his head.

"Come on, you're not taking those pain pills, so you've gotta need something to take the edge off." He wiggled the bottle in Michael's direction.

Michael finally gave a one-sided shrug. "Fine. Hand it over."

"That's my boy," Sam grinned. He lowered his voice. "Everything okay?"

"It will be. I hope." They joined Fiona outside. Sam took a seat on the stairs while Michael sat in the lounge chair and Fiona settled carefully onto his lap.

Sam raised his bottle to toast. "To friends."

Fiona nodded, "To friends."

They looked to Michael for his toast. He smiled, "To family."


End file.
